The Dance
by Trunks lil' sis
Summary: McKay dances. Sheppard thinks. McKay acts. (slash)


Title: The Dance

Rating: Pg-13

Summary: McKay dances. Sheppard thinks. McKay acts.

The Dance:

It was the first time, in a long time Major John Sheppard and his group were on a foreign world, not being shot at. Contrary to that they had been greeted by smiling faces and warm embraces. They had been immediately ushered into a primitive type village, given customary robes, and seated at a large table. A feast had commenced, and through rough translations, a friendship was forged between the two races. They were urged to spend the night, and after a quick check with Elizabeth Weir, they were prepared to.

The drums were beating hard, but Sheppard hardly noticed. Nearly half an hour ago he had retreated to his and Aidan Ford's assigned hut, where he was promptly sulking. Sulking for a mysterious reason-mysterious even to himself. Yes, he was promptly confused by the tight feeling in his chest, but not so oblivious to where it stemmed from.

The good doctor was giving him heartburn, Sheppard was sure.

He became aware of the heavy and quick paced drums when the tent flap opened and a gust of wind blew through. It was warm for sure, but Sheppard shivered anyway, eyes drifting up to the eager face of Aidan Ford. "Sir!" The young lieutenant beckoned him forward. "You've got to see this." Did Ford look a little unsteady on his feet?

Sheppard quirked an eyebrow and rested his chin in his palm, elbows on his knees. "See what, Ford?"

The lieutenant looked ready to burst, like the cat that ate the canary. This piqued Sheppard 's interest just a bit more and had him leaning forward.

"It's blackmail material, sir, and you've got to see it. You'll never forgive yourself otherwise." It had to be something big, Sheppard noticed Ford was all but bouncing around. "Doctor Beckett is near pissing himself."

"What is it, Lieutenant?"

Ford slapped a hand to his mouth, giggling desperately to himself. Aidan Ford had a little too much to drink that night. Sheppard made a personal note to find out what alcoholic drinks the natives were slipping his people under the counter. "It's McKay!" He finally managed, threatening to stumble forward. "He's," giggle, "Partaking in a ritual!"

That had John Sheppard on his feet in an instant. Anger and concern bubbled forward, and his stomach flew up to his chest. What had that idiot gotten himself into this time? Sheppard had assumed, and that was his first mistake, that McKay knew better than to involve himself in something he had no knowledge of. Though on further consideration Sheppard realized the day Rodney McKay didn't get himself into trouble was the day Atlantis became a giant space ship.

So help me, Sheppard thought, charging forward, if you've gotten yourself hurt!

If Rodney was hurt again …

"He's dancing!"

If it were possible, Sheppard would have stumbled. In an instance he whipped back around to watch Ford flop backwards onto his butt. The lieutenant was finding his right hand extremely fascinating, Sheppard could see it was covered in some sort of blue paint.

"What did you say?" The Major demanded, eyes widening. He couldn't have heard that right.

However Ford's next words confirmed it. "He's with them, all of them! He's dancing and doing a fabulous job of it, sir!" Ford sobered almost instantaneously. "They invited us all, but he's the only one who would do it. He's dancing!"

That was it. Sheppard had to see Doctor Rodney McKay _dancing_.

"Where is he?"

"Big campfire, that away!" Ford's hand shot out and he pointed toward the large bonfire just visible around another hut. Sheppard observed the same path he had taken to the assigned hut would also take him down to the center of the village, where the bonfire was being held. He sparred a glance to Ford before taking off down the path intent on finding his doctor and … wait, wait, _his_? Well, Sheppard frowned to himself, McKay was part of his team, and technically his, but something about the earlier tone …

Ford had been right, Beckett did look like he was going to wet himself. The Scottish doctor was hunched over, nearly seizing with laughter, a few other members of the team following suit.

Sheppard half smiled at the doctor before turning his eyes to the bonfire and the people dancing around it. He couldn't seem to pick McKay out. The natives had dressed McKay and the rest of the team just like them, and with their large statures, finding the wayward scientist was proving difficult. Just where was the fool? It shouldn't have been so hard to pick out the only man stumbling over his own feet.

John Sheppard had no idea Rodney McKay could dance.

Actually, it wasn't so much of a dance as an act of nature. McKay passed in front of him briefly, radiating so much beauty the Major felt his world spin. No, this couldn't be dancing, he decided. There wasn't a word pure enough to describe exactly what he was seeing. It was something wonderful and terrifying all at the same time. McKay was a whirlwind of passion when he danced.

Apparently the native dance wasn't hard to pick up because McKay was copying it near to perfect. His feet moved perfectly with the drums and his hand movements were in sync with those around him. His hips jerked forward in such a way Sheppard found his pants tightening. Arms waved madly in the air, and then were still, and Sheppard just managed to catch McKay's eye before the other danced out of sight.

The next time McKay circled around he met Sheppard's gaze with unmovable strength. The children of the village danced with him, invading his personal space and yet McKay wasn't bothered at all. If anything he seemed to welcome the inquisitive and innocent hands.

McKay's eyes said come join me. Sheppard was taken back by the lust behind the blue. How could he have read that right? McKay wouldn't-couldn't lust for him, whether it be sex or a dance. The only things McKay lusted for were new technologies, Scientific theories and maybe Hustler. No, No, that couldn't be right, but he'd sure get to the bottom of it the next time McKay came around.

Sheppard didn't have the courage to approach him for another three cycles. Each time McKay passed him Sheppard found himself wanting the man even more. He hadn't thought this to be possible.

He had wanted McKay since the very beginning, his flaw being in his inability to realize this. Their constant bickering, at least on his part was in all actuality shameless flirting. Weir was aware of this, but she didn't ask, and Sheppard sure as hell didn't tell. Up until this moment he felt his feelings were one sided, but could he be wrong?

Was McKay drunk?

When Sheppard did find the strength to push forward and seek McKay out, the drums ended suddenly. McKay was on the other side of the humongous bonfire and out of Sheppard's sight. This meant the Major had to go hunting.

McKay found him wandering near a deserted part of the village.

"Major."

"Doctor."

Sheppard noted the clinging material of the dress robes on the object of his affection, appreciating the curves. He'd send a thank you note to the village elder personally if McKay kept the robes and wore them just once more.

"You didn't dance." Sheppard chuckled.

"You did."

Was that a blush?

McKay shrugged. "Beckett didn't want to either. I thought it might be rude if we all refused. Wouldn't want to be rude, would we?"

Oh, yes, McKay had to be drunk.

"Are you drunk?"

The normal Rodney McKay just couldn't be so sexual with a simple dance. And the way he was running his hands down himself? That wasn't part of the dance, Sheppard was sure he hadn't seen anyone else doing it. Even now McKay was leaning into him, giving Sheppard a whiff of his cinnamon breath.

McKay's arm snaked upward, followed by another to rest, locked together behind Sheppard's neck. "No, John." In an instance McKay was pushed flush against him.

"Whoa there, Doc-McKay-Rodney," He stumbled through names, nervous beyond possible. "You've got to be drunk, so I'm not going to hold his above your head in a taunt. Let's get you to your hut and then in the morning we'll both get past this."

"You want to kiss me."

Did he ever.

"No, I don't, and you don't want me to kiss you."

McKay fingered the material of Sheppard's own robe. "I do want you to kiss me."

"Maybe right now," Sheppard allowed, "But not in the morning, I bet probably not five minutes from now.

Fingers were in Sheppard's hair. "You lose, Major, I get my prize."

Before Sheppard had a chance to blink McKay's mouth was over his, tongue thrusting inward. Hands snaked from the back of his neck down just as McKay's tongue raked over his teeth and he moaned back in appreciation. Sheppard was lost to the situation for merely a few second before he flew back into action. With only a grunt of effort he had both himself and McKay pushed to the ground, the soft soil cushioning the fall.

"You don't really want this," Sheppard stated, then continued his assault on McKay's mouth. "You're going to hit me in the morning." His hands were roaming over Rodney McKay's soft flesh, and then suddenly he found a way inside the pale blue robes. "Hit me very hard."

A soft giggle caused Sheppard to pause. "Lieutenant?"

"Oh, hell." Sheppard rolled off McKay as Ford emerged from behind a hut. "What're you doing here?"

"Beckett sent me, sir." Ford knelt down next to the two flushed men.

McKay raised an eyebrow. "I didn't know he was capable of breathing, let alone communicating." Sheppard blinked at the lucid words. "He seemed to be having a fit, and I wasn't going to interrupt him."

"You aren't drunk?" Ouch. It was bad enough when Sheppard was assured McKay was.

"Of course not, John. I wouldn't allow myself to become impaired such as the rest of the group. I recognized the drink from dinner contained a substance or two inappropriate for myself and promptly boycotted it. I wasn't aware you knew otherwise." Sheppard hadn't known, but all the same he had decided not to try the orange liquid.

"Beckett sent me," Ford interrupted, repeating himself. "Said to tell you bunking assignments are changed." The young solider smiled at his CO. "He told me you two'd need the night."

Sheppard dropped his head in embarrassment as Ford scampered away.

"Are you done?" McKay snapped.

"Done what?" Sheppard begun a perfect glare before noticing his companion's cherry red lips. McKay had been properly ravaged, and Sheppard wanted to do it again, right away.

"Being embarrassed, ashamed, or whatever you're feeling."

McKay wasted no time climbing to his feet, tripping only momentarily on his long robes. He offered a hand down to Sheppard.

"Yeah." He took the hand and drew McKay into a strong embrace, capturing his full lips. "We have to talk in the morning." He drew back, then pressed quickly forward to place a chaste kiss on McKay's lips.

"It isn't the morning right now."

Sheppard's grip settled over McKay's wrist and they were all but running back towards their hut.

Briefly Sheppard wondered if a relationship could ever truly exist between them, but later decided that was for tomorrow. They'd figure everything out tomorrow when they both weren't filled with so much desire and need. Even more Sheppard wondered if McKay would dance again for him any time soon.


End file.
